Duke Basketball

What It's Like To Root For The Most Hated Team in College Sports

The game started off as I expected. Duke hit a quick three and Mason Plumlee was showing dominance in the low post. Miami fans reacted to every Duke miss like they just won a national championship, and they cheered every Canes bucket like it cured the flu. The fans were ready to storm the court about four seconds after tip-off.

I cheered the Duke three-pointer and I threw out a "Nice!" when Plumlee got off to a fast start with a solid move in the paint. Both acts drew stink eyes from the home fans around me. While the goal of the piece was to be a Duke fan for a night, I was determined to be a Duke fan the way I was a fan for my own teams: to cheer without being obnoxious, to get excited without being irritating.

Despite my attempts at being a civil Duke fan, the crowd and the scoreboard were against me. Remember how I mentioned that I'd cheer with the confidence of Seth Curry shooting a three? He missed all 10 of his shots. About halfway through the first half, Duke was down five points. With five minutes left in the half, they were down 14. By halftime, the lead was up to 23 and Duke had just completed an eight-minute stretch without scoring as the Canes went on a 25-1 run. Miami's Durand Scott and Kenny Kadji seemed to be scoring at will.

Every time Duke missed a shot, the surrounding fans treated it like a repudiation of everything I, as a Duke fan, believed in.

After a Plumlee brick: "See, he sucks."

After a Curry miss: "Told you he can't shoot!"

After a turnover: "I thought Coach K could coach!"

And on and on it went. Scott kept draining. Kadji kept draining. Shane Larkin, the son of MLB great Barry Larkin, caught fire. Duke could not find the basket. The lead was up to 30 in the middle of the second half and the rout was on. Soon, the ire directed at me had disappeared into elation: Miami was about to get the biggest win in school history against the biggest bully on the block. As a Duke fan for a night, there was absolutely nothing to cheer about the entire second half.

Finally, time ran out and the fans, deservedly, rushed the court. With the clock at 0:00, I considered my assignment over and I took the whole scene in. It was the third largest margin of victory over a No. 1 ranked team ever, and I was glad I was there — though it would have been much more fun wearing a Hurricanes shirt.

I showed up in Coral Gables ready to go. Too bad the Duke team didn't. Maybe I'll have to take that trip up to Durham after all.